


Sleep

by RadAf



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Hallucinations, M/M, Other, Smut, cloaks, crack!, im sorry mom, really weird consent idk, sleep paralysis, this isn't good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4163343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadAf/pseuds/RadAf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is visited by a cloaked figure every night. Is it sleep paralysis? Or something more...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> This is a joke pls

Moving into an apartment by myself was one of the worst decisions I've ever made. I should've convinced Mikey or Ray to stay with me. I should've settled down by now.

I am fine with being alone; I've never minded loneliness, being the introvert I am. I tried to blame this all on loneliness- the terrors that is. However, I can't fool myself forever.

There's something watching me at night. I wake up, and then there's a cloaked figure peering over me as I sleep. Sometimes it feels as if it's on my chest, strangling me and making it difficult to breathe. I haven't told anyone yet. Most of my friends are fairly cynical and wouldn't understand what was happening beyond a scientific explanation.

The figure hasn't truly frightened me in two weeks, however. I've gotten used to their presence, which is a bit unusual. It's not like we're friends, the Cloak and I, but they're almost comforting. It's like they're watching over me, reassuring my ease.

I lie in bed, checking my Twitter feed. I learn that Drake Bell is a transphobic arse. Frowning, I put down my phone and shut my eyes.

In the dead of night, my eyes fly open. I can't move, as usual. I see the Cloak; they're watching me, carefully, on the foot of my bed.

For the first time ever, the Cloak pulls down their hood. I am astounded.

In front of me, I see this sort of beautiful entity. They have short, black hair and hazel orbs for eyes. There are odd symbols, like tattoos, etched all over their neck. They look like they definitely get their eyebrows threaded.

"Hello, Gerard," the Cloak murmurs. I cannot fathom how they possibly knew my name. "You look so lovely tonight." This remark gives me a big ol' boner. I can't help it- the Cloak is truly beautiful. I am a mere peasant in the presence of a godlike form of sleep paralysis. I blink at them.

"You're probably wondering my name. I'm Frank," Frank explains. I blink. "You might also know me as Sleep Paralysis. I go by either."

This is all they say before I drift back to sleep. I wake up the next morning, hard, wondering how Frank has this effect on me.

This goes on for several weeks, but the conversations vary. Just the other day, he talked with me- well, at me- about my record collection. The next night, I put Bowie on vinyl on as I went into bed, to show Frank that I'm listening. However, I don't know how to really communicate with them. I decide to call Mikey about it.

"Hey, Mikes."

"Hey, what's up?" Mikey questions.

"Can you meet me at the Starbucks in Belleville? I need advice."

"Yeah, of course."

So, I drive down to the Starbucks and order a Cotton Candy Latté from the Secret Starbucks Menu and wait for Mikey. He arrives and sits by me around five minutes after I sit down. I explain my issue.

"Gerard, Frank is just a hallucination."

"Mikey, you dumbass !!! You don't understand. I'm in love with them."

Mikey sighs and rolls his eyes. "I can't fucking believe you."

"Mikeyyyyy," I whine.

"Why don't you just, like, write them a letter?" he suggests. My eyes light up.

"That's perfect! Thank you mikeyway!" I then blast home to compose the perfect letter to give to Frank. It reads:

Dear Frank,  
I know you're, like, sleep paralysis and all, but I really like you. You have a good taste in music and gorgeous, hazel eyes that make me melt. Please fuck me.  
Love,  
Gerard

I leave the note on my nightstand, hoping that Frank will see it.

As I fall asleep, I am ecstatic. I put on some Bowie to set the mood, hoping that Frank will comply with my request.

When Frank visits that night, they read the note right away. Their eyes go wide when they reach the last sentence and I wink at them, utilizing the only method of flirting I can. They sit beside me, running their hand through my messy, red locks.

"Baby, are you sure? I mean... this is a bit unorthodox." I blink at them. "Okay how about... Blink twice for consent, blink once for no."

I blink twice, and they grin, giving me a quick, sloppy kiss on the corner of my mouth. I try to convey messages of "please, daddy" with my eyes, and Frank trails kisses down my jaw. They bite my neck, marking me. I moan internally, and they moan out loud.

"Are you ready?" they ask. I blink twice; they tug at my Star Wars pajama pants, palming my hard-on. "Fuck, you're so big." I hope my eyes convey a smirk.

Frank pulls down my boxers, my erection springing free. They stroke me, and their god-like presence causes me to come within the minute. My come stains their cloak.

Frank slowly pulls up their cloak, revealing their legs, crawling with etchings. They position them self between my legs and spit on their fingers. They place a finger inside me, and my eyes flicker shut. After prepping me for a bit, they pulls out their erect penis. I have a dumbfounded moment when I see that their cock is wearing a cloak? Frank must see my confused gaze because they explain, "It's for protection."

Soon enough, Frank is inside of me. All of the waiting, all of the wanting ends, and I am content. When they come inside me, I can't even wrap my mind around how they're not really there. It ceases to matter for that moment.

I wake up, smiling over the memories. I turn of the Bowie record, and throw the note from the night prior into my waste basket. It's stupid, and I know it, because Frank was never really there, but I can't help it. The sex was almost more fun knowing that it was so accessible, yet felt so real.

Then, I catch my glowing reflection in my vanity mirror. My expression grows confused as my vision becomes aware of my neck, still marked with a dark bruise. I examine it closer; it's definitely there. I frown, when I catch something in the corner of my eye.

I see a cloaked figure watching me.


End file.
